


Thrymskvitha

by needleyecandy



Series: Fucking February [35]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Gore, Gratuitous use of mythic poetry for smut, M/M, Revenge, corsets, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor gets drunk at a party and leaves his hammer behind in Jotunheim. Thrym will return it only in exchange for Freya's hand in marriage. She refuses, but as Heimdall points out, a veil can hide quite a lot...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrymskvitha

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

**VI: Corsets**

 

Loki was woken by the sound of his brother's groaning.

"Shut up, Thor," he moaned as he threw one arm over his eyes to block the light. With his free hand he slapped futility at the miserable lump next to him.

"I will willingly sit through the next of your experiments if you get up and order our breakfast," Thor said.

The offer gave Loki pause. He _had_ come across a most fascinating spell recently. The book had warned that it was only safe to cast on a willing subject, and while he'd been planning to simply ignore that bit, perhaps it wasn't an entirely bad idea to learn from others' experiences. He tried to swing his legs off the bed. It didn't work. He opened his eyes.

"Ah, Thor? Why are we sleeping in the granary?" The huge bags of grain had been comfortable enough to sleep on, but now that he was awake...

"We are?" Thor croaked. He opened his eyes. "We are. Did you forget your keys again? You told me that I could leave mine at home."

Loki reached for his pocket. They were gone. "Well, if I got us locked out, why didn't you fly us to your balcony?"

Thor sat bolt upright, his head swiveling as he looked for his hammer. She was nowhere to be seen. They looked at each other.

"This is _bad_ , Thor. This is really bad. Did you leave Mjolnir at the party?"

Thor groaned. "I was so drunk..."

"Yes, and now Thrym has your hammer! What fate shall befall the realms if you don't get her back? I warned you when the invitations came in the mail, I said, _Jotuns know how to have a good time, but you can't trust them_ , and now they have your hammer and if you don't get her back they'll take over the realms."

"We," said Thor. "If _we_ don't get her back."

"What? How is this my problem?"

"Well, you clearly didn't warn me strongly enough," Thor answered, sounding irritatingly reasonable.

" _I_ should be enough of a warning, myself," Loki grumbled, but he was already getting up. "What's the weather like today?"

Thor paused in thought, shifting his focus from the dim granary to the atmosphere above them. "Cool and bright," he said.

"I need some cloud cover, if you want me leaving here before sunset."

"I can't believe someone who gave birth to a horse can be such a baby about a little hangover," Thor told him, but even as he spoke the faint light that leaked in was growing fainter.

"Do you really want to bring up our youthful indiscretions? Because I remember a few partners of yours that I'm sure you'd just as soon -"

A low roll of thunder interrupted him, and Loki gave his brother a savage grin.

*****

Following a hearty breakfast and a rather copious indulgence in a variety of healing elixirs, they were feeling well enough to work out a plan together.

"You have to ask Freya to borrow her feather cloak. You need to go back there and get your hammer before anything else goes wrong. That's the plan," Loki said.

Thor grumbled, but he also knew it was the best course of action, and getting Mjolnir back was too important to waste time arguing. "Come with me, at least," he said.

Freya was relaxing on her throne, a purring cat draped over her lap, when they arrived in her hall. Thor quickly explained the situation. Her eyes grew wide as saucers as he spoke. "...so may I borrow your feathered cloak, that I might return to Jotunheim to retrieve my hammer?" he finished.

"You little shit," she said.

Thor blinked. He was used to Loki being the one called that.

"You little shit," she said again. "You got drunk and forgot your hammer and now we're all toast. Yes, you'd best take my cloak and be quick about it."

Thor bowed his thanks and lifted the delicate garment from its raised display to the left of her dias. He wrapped it around his shoulders and raised his arms...

...and nothing happened.

Freya sighed loudly. "You weigh too much. Loki, you'll have to go."

"What? _No._ Try again, Thor," he said.

Thor tried again, to no avail. He took off the cloak and held it out. Loki took it with a sigh louder than Freya's. "You owe me for this," he said as he put it on.

Freya and Thor grew small as ants as Loki soared upwards. He turned towards Jotunheim and refused to think about what was happening until he landed in the grounds of Thrym's court.

"I can't believe I was born here," Loki muttered to himself as he stepped over piles of dog shit, approaching the great mound that served the giant king for a throne. It was surrounded by dogs, all staring at Thrym adoringly. Of course they were.

"Ah, Loki! Tell me, how are things in the realm of the gods?" Thrym asked. He had the dumbest smirk Loki had ever seen. He itched to smack it clean away, but he kept his hands at his sides.

"Ill," Loki said simply. "Where is Mjolnir?"

"I have hidden her away. The price for her return is Freya as my bride," Thrym announced. His eyes shone with triumph.

"Fuck. Um, no problem," Loki said, and flew away.

He could see them waiting anxiously for his return, and he circled twice before landing, trying to decide how to talk Freya into marrying a huge jerk and going to live in a palace full of dogs and their crap.

"Ah, my lady. One of your wisdom and beauty surely belongs as the queen of more than a single realm-" he began.

"Fat chance," she interrupted with a snort. "Come up with something else."

"But-"

"No."

*****

The gods and goddesses were summoned together to discuss the dire situation; the realms were in peril, and if an answer was not soon found, it would be too late.

"I have an idea," Heimdall said. "Let's dress Thor up as a bride and send him off. It can't fail."

"No way. If I dress up like a girl, everyone will laugh at me and call me unmanly."

"Thor, you've been banging Loki - your adopted brother - for centuries. If people don't call you argr for that, I don't think you have to worry about putting on a dress," Heimdall pointed out.

"Yeah. What he said," Loki told him. "Now come on, we'd better find Nanna. I'll go with you as your maid."

The seamstress, once found, took one look at them standing before her in their linens, and burst into laughter. "No one's going to take _those_ for women's figures, no matter what clothes cover them," she said.

Fortunately, she had just completed construction of a special corset for a customer of healthy appetite, and it fit Thor's broad ribcage perfectly. Loki she was able to fit into one of her standard sizes. Both of them were laced in until she was satisfied with the trimness of their waists, and she took what had to have been an excessive amount of measurements before setting them free.

"Come back in eight days," she said. "Your clothes will be ready."

All of Asgard was on edge as the days passed. Freya spent them sending nasty notes to the two of them via a rather sulky falcon. Heimdall spent them with his gaze cast over the approach from Jotunheim. Thor spent them in the sparring grounds, working on his punch. Loki spent them in bed with a large bottle of lube and a larger box of tissues because Thor had looked really fucking good in that corset.

*****

At last the day came for them to return to the seamstress. Thor shaved his beard without a single complaint; however much he hated the plan, he was committed to it, and Loki knew he would see it through. Nanna arrived with their new clothes and was ushered to their chambers.

Thor she dressed first. Loki sat on their bed, trying to appear nonchalant as he watched the loose-laced corset lowered over Thor's head. Thor held it in place as the ribbons were pulled snug, and then tight. It took four passes before Nanna was satisfied with the shape of his waist, the way it nipped in trimly and made his hips into the lushest swell Loki had ever seen. His chest, too, was reshaped, the firm muscle forced forwards and up so that even lacking a proper bosom, he filled the cups quite nicely. The corset was covered in white silk shot with pale blue, and it shimmered around each rich curve of Thor's body. The color was demure, virginal even, and the contrast between the shade of the fabric and the raw sensuality of Thor's body was flagrantly, almost brutally, erotic. Here was the fertility god in full force, staring back at him with Loki's own longing reflected in his eyes.

"After," Nanna said, stepping between them. "Get the hammer, then no one will care what you do."

"Of course," Thor said, looking away. He stood patiently as she got him into his dress, covered his head in a veil, and finally clasped Brisengamen about his throat. Freya had sent her necklace along with her final note, in which she unleashed the full torrent of her vocabulary. It had been somewhat alarming.

Loki's own corset was of an equally fine cloth, black silk interwoven with red and trimmed with red lace. He did not need to see Thor's face; he could _feel_ the waves of lust that emanated from beneath his veil. They ebbed only slightly once he had his dress on.

Despite his initial hesitation at the idea, Thor wasted no time striding forth in his bridal gown, Loki hurrying after him. The two of them got more than a few wolf whistles as they walked to the stables, where Thor's two goats stood ready in their harness. The two of them climbed into the cart and set off for Jotunheim. As they drew near, they could hear Thrym calling orders.

"Put down fresh straw on the benches for my bride! Order the kitchens to ready the feast! And for fuck's sake, someone clean up all this dog shit!"

By the time they arrived, all Thrym's commands had been fulfilled. He took Thor's hand to aid him out of the cart and led him to the seat of honor. Loki followed silently and took the place of the waiting servant.

The hall was filled with giants, eager to join in the feasting and to witness the marriage. Thor played his part well, nodding graciously and applauding the arrival of the food. He did everything well until he began to eat. The corset restrained his stomach and subdued his usual appetite, but he still ate an ox, eight whole salmon, and the entire contents of the platter of dainties that had been provided specially for the women. He washed them down with three full casks of mead.

Thrym watched everything, his expression wavering moment to moment between greed and trepidation. "My bride has quite the appetite," he said when Thor was done.

Thor turned to him, and Loki stepped quickly forward before Thor forgot himself (as he tended to do after the second tun of mead) and spoke. "Freya has been so eager for this wedding that she hasn't eaten a bite since she received news of your desire," he said.

"That hot for me, is she?" Thrym asked with a chuckle. He turned to Thor and reached for his veil, leaning in for a kiss. Loki's stomach clenched in panic, but the king proved every bit as stupid as Nanna had promised. Thrym jerked back the moment he saw Thor's eyes. "Why are her eyes so fiery? Her gaze could burn down my very hall."

"Freya has been so eager for this wedding that she hasn't slept a wink since she received news of your desire," Loki said.

"Ah. In that case, let us conclude the feast more quickly." Thrym summoned his sister to conclude the formalities.

She stepped forwards to stand in front of Thor. "If you desire my welcome into this family, the bride-price must be paid," she said.

Thor held forth his hands and watched as she slipped the red-gold rings from his fingers. She leaned down and kissed his cheek through the veil. "You have my willing love," she said.

Loki smiled as he watched her carry the gold away. He well knew it would be taken back to Asgard soon enough.

"And now to bless my bride! Bring forth Mjolnir and lay her upon Freya's knees to consecrate our union."

There was a wait while the hammer was retrieved from where Thrym had hidden her. It was all Loki could do to hide how his hands trembled with excitement; he could not help imagining the carnage when Thor took his vengeance. His brother was truly glorious in battle, and he burned for the sight of it.

A guard arrived, carrying the hammer. He approached with measured steps, slow and formal, and Loki wanted to scream at him to hurry up. It took an age, but at last Mjolnir was rested on Thor's knees. A jolt of electricity shocked the very air. It had him stiffening beneath his dress, but it was too late for anyone to notice or care about the very unladylike bulge in the front of his gown, because Thor was rising from his chair and Mjolnir was singing through the air and crashing down into Thrym's shocked face. Loki grinned and slipped the knives from his pockets.

It was a bloodbath. Thor worked his way through the feast hall, striking down giant after giant while Loki retrieved the rings. When he returned he stood, watching Thor fight his way through the surge of furied Jotuns, until the enemy was wholly annihilated. Thor's shell-pink dress and Loki's spring-green one alike were dark red, dripping with gore. The feast hall itself was in ruins. The high table alone remained.

"You even managed to keep it clean for us," Loki said.

"I did," Thor answered.

Their lips crashed together, their battle-roused blood turning, as it so easily did between them, to lust. Their hands sped over each other's bodies, tearing at the seams of their gowns until they stood in a pile of ruined cloth. Thor reached up to remove his thrown-back veil.

"No, keep that on," Loki told him.

Thor grinned and wrapped his arms around Loki, taking a low hold of him and carrying him, kicking ruined bodies out of his way as he went, to the high table. He sat Loki upon it and reached around him to untie his laces.

"Don't, I want to keep these, too," Loki begged. He grinned as he watched his brother's eyes darken with excitement.

“Tell me how you desire this,” Thor demanded.

“Oh, brother, I want to fuck you. My magnificent brother, the god of fertility, done up like a virgin, in your veil and such demurely shaded garments. The heat of battle has reddened your cheeks so that you bear the look of a blushing bride. Oh, love, let me,” Loki breathed. As he spoke, he reached down Thor’s body until he seized hold of his cock and stroked it until it began to leak with wanting.

“Always,” Thor promised. He pulled Loki off the table and took his place, spreading his powerful thighs to draw the slighter figure between them.

Loki’s hands went everywhere. He cupped those divine muscles that played at being breasts, testing their heft. He fitted them around Thor’s tiny waist, he ran them over the lovely swell of Thor’s hips. What a grip they would offer him as he thrust his way inside.

“Please, I need it,” Thor said, interrupting his reverie.

“Then lie back,” Loki told him, pressing on his shoulders. Thor did as he was told, settling back onto the table with his legs hanging free. Loki watched the precum dripping from Thor's cock as it fell to his corset and made a dark spot on the pale cloth. It spread with heady slowness and left a long, silver thread that took his breath away. He leaned forwards and broke it with his tongue.

Thor gave a rumble of impatience and locked his legs around Loki's waist, pulling him close as he tightened his hold. "Now," he growled.

Loki loved him like this, the thrill of battle standing in place of foreplay. Not that Loki didn’t love that, as well – they could happily spend hours driving each other mad with desire – but just now he had no more patience than did his brother. He murmured a spell and Thor was ready, slick and open and half-panting in anticipation. He brought his cock into place and meant to tease, just a little, just a moment, but Thor tightened his legs again and pulled Loki fully inside him in a single sharp thrust that left Loki bowed over, gasping at the shock of it.

It took a moment to regain his equilibrium, and then he was laughing. "Oh, no, dear brother," he scolded. "That won't do at all. You have had your way with this massacre, and now I will have my way with this."

He pulled out, his native cold air shocking after the heat of Thor's body. "Turn over," he ordered.

Thor grumbled in impatience but he was already sliding off the altar and turning to bend over it. It wasn't what Loki had meant - he wanted Thor stretched out across the wide stone, he wanted to pour his own lean body over Thor's massive one - and he had no doubt that Thor had known what he meant, but the sight of Thor standing there with his chest to the stone, his face resting on one side, and most of all his newly rounded hips thrust high into the air and his cheeks parted just enough to see his opening as it gaped and twitched, desperate to be filled... it wasn't what Loki meant but it was too good to argue. He gave one cheek a noisy slap before taking them both in his hands, pulling him open and stepping forwards until his cock was _just_ there, _just_ touching.

"You're trying to kill me," Thor told him.

"No one ever died of teasing, brother," Loki answered.

"Let's keep it that way."

Loki laughed again, the low, rich laugh that always drove Thor mad with want, and pushed. He gave it to him slowly, inch by inch and his eyes fixed where he disappeared inside, watching how Thor's ring pulled tight with each press inwards. Even with the preparation, Thor was panting with the strain of it, of taking so much into himself.

Thor gave a broken cry when the head of Loki's cock hit his spot. "There. Right there," he said. Loki eased back and pushed in again, and again, not continuing farther in until Thor's body was going rigid with the intensity of it, his hands scrabbling helplessly at the smooth gray stone.

When he was fully in, Loki gave himself a moment to admire. This was one of his favorite sights, when he was buried balls-deep in his brother, his cock utterly vanished within white-tight skin. Perhaps its only rival was the first moment he slipped in, right when the head disappeared into Thor, and how once he started Thor's body pulled him in.

"Whenever you're done staring..." Thor prompted.

"I know, but you are so lovely like this. Such a trim waist, and these sweet hips are so easy to hold on to." He demonstrated, then, wrapping his long fingers around them. His skin, usually so cold and pale, looked warm and vibrant against the white-blue of Thor's corset. "How shall I fuck you, Thor?" he mused. His grip tightened, holding Thor still as he withdrew. "Slow and loving, hard and harsh? Shall I make you moan, or shall I make you -" he thrust in fast enough to make Thor shout.

Loki meant to make another comment at that, he really did, but it was growing impossible to maintain his composure. Thor was tight and hot and he was squeezing, making himself even tighter, knowing Loki was helpless to resist. The corset was not helping things, either. Shallow breaths were enough for the battle, but this took everything he had and he couldn't get quite enough air. Thor was panting beneath him, his body writhing, urging Loki to greater speed. He pistoned his hips, their blood too high from the slaughter to want anything less than the hardest he could go.

Thor was crying out with each punishing thrust, his body limp on the altar. Loki grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his head up and back, forcing his back into a deep arch. He reached around, slipping his fingers into Thor's mouth. Thor tightened his lips around them and sucked furiously, tongue teasing at the tips of his fingers and Loki pushed them farther in. Such a show of helplessness Thor made, his whole body contorted to accept penetration everywhere, and his whimpers as he grew close added so gloriously to the effect, when all around them was strewn the carnage that showed Thor to be anything but helpless. Such a pleasure, that Thor would desire this with Loki alone.

"Touch yourself," Loki growled. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

Thor reached down to take himself in hand. His arm moved frantically and he got tighter and sucked harder and then he was coming, shaking and moaning around Loki's fingers and his hole clenching so fucking hard around Loki's cock as he was struck by wave after wave of searing intensity. Loki managed to resist it for the first three pulses and then he was coming too, the tightly coiled need bursting free as he filled Thor with sharp bursts of heat and the world gave way to blinding whiteness.

When it was over, they found themselves both halfway collapsed onto the table. Loki was draped over Thor's back, still panting for air. His cock had slipped free and was nestled in the cleft of Thor's ass. He could feel the lazy aftershocks making Thor's opening flutter against him, and with each one there was a spill of cum.

"We are filthy," Loki said with satisfaction.

"We are. I would prefer not to return home thus," Thor mumbled against the heated stone.

"How fortunate I know the way to the late king's hot springs. I'll show you. Just as soon as I can walk."


End file.
